THE SUNDAY BEE: OMAHA, JULY 9, 1922.
The Sack
1
'atla4 rram hit Om.)
By Owen Oliver
I
i
lie collapsed. He imagined thai he
fainted and that he was in the faint
for a long while, became he teemed
considerably older when he became
cpnicioui again. He was running
once more; always running, when
ever he knew anything; and the
ack was always weighing him
down. It grew heavier and heav
ier, because people kept putting
things on it. There was Jim again:
that trouble over his debts I and
there .was Harry Kane's bill that
he backed. Harry paid it, back
in after years though. Good chap,
Harry. And Archie Green's widow;
Door consumptive girl. He had to
nelp her, of course. And Jim
again. A good job little mammy
didn't live, perhaps. Then there
was poor old Rogers. So many of
them. Somehow they all seemed
to unload their burdens onto him,
and none ever stayed to help him
bear the sack; never one for . a
time that seemed very long; per
haps years. O, ycsl It must be
years.
And one laid uoon him a bur
den that was heavier than all the
. . I : .t . i . i
ixi; ncavicr man any inai ne
knew. He never spoke of that bur
den to anyone, and he wotild not
have it written of, so no more can
be said than this.
There were times when he stum
bled, and times when he fell by
the way; but he always got up and
struggled on again. He could not
travel so fast as those who bore
no burden; and many a younger
man went by him easily, and with
a look of scorn; many a man whom
he could have "beaten easily on
equal terras; but he rarely com
plained, and he seldom harbored
malice; and he never rested. So
he caught some of them again, as
they made merry in wayside inns,
or lay under the cool ' hedges
asleep, or when they grew fat after
easy living. ;
After many years well, they felt
to him like years there came a
time when he found that the bear
ing of burdens had made him very
strong. In those days he reached
several little country places, where
there were humble little races;
and, even with his burden on his
back he won some of these.
There is much to tell of this
long time; but it is bound up with
things that he never told, he would
not have told; things that are in
the story of the burden of which
he never spoke to any then, and
only to one afterwards. He was
always a man to wnom none De
nied his right hand, and to whom
women trusted, and to whom little
children an I Let us leave it at
that. .
One day he strode out into a
fresh country; powerful man,
but no longer a young man; one
who seldom ran, but walked
stoutly and uprightly, carrying his
huge sack over his shoulder. While
he walked bravely and strongly
and smilingly though smiling
rather sadlyv the sun went down.
Suddenly he felt very tired, and
stopped in his ' walking;, and his
doctor's voice he remembered
the voice called out from the "
dir len ess
"Rest l" it "ordered sternly. "A
long rest!"
"No," he cried, "no! I wiil go
on, I must go on. Doctor, I've
nothing but my work; nothing but
my work I"
He struggled on a little way
farther. Then his - limbs failed
him; and he staggered and cried
out a great cry. ,
- "It is enough! he groaned; and
, Ms legs gave way under him; and
again for a time he knew no more.
ifThat was "when he was ill." Yes,
. that was the time. He came to,
remembering that
K . It was night, and very cold and
I Very dark. There was no light ex
: cept a few twinkling stars. He
felt faint and listless; and yet
i somehow purified,
ft -" A weaker man, but not a
I worse" he told himself. "Please
? God, I'll go on a bit yet"
p He raised . the sack on his
'shoulder, and stumbled forward
into the darkness. He felt glad to
'.be moving forward again, even
fslowly; tried to laugh a little,
.'even tried to sing. His laugh did
not sound very good, but the
voice "still a good bit of the old
voice," he told himself. Some peo
ple had liked to hear him sing,
and he liked to hear himself. It
was his one vanitv; and it was
mostly only great love for music.
The singing cheered him on for
a little while; but the sack seemed
so heavy. Or was it only that he
.was weaker?
"I'm not the man I was," he
groaned. "Not the man .1 was.
It is more than I can bear."
And just then just when first
" his brave heart faltered some one
. stepped to his side. He could not
see her face for the darkness but
. she was a woman; a small woman;
(scarcely up to his big shoulder.
She Seemed to be a very fragile
little creature. Nevertheless she
put her weak shoulder under the
great sack and lifted energetically
to help him, gasped little gasps
that she tried to pass off for'
laughs. But that was like why
like a wonderful woman called
called Evelyn.
His heart seemed to swell in him
and make him a strong, brave man
again. He laughed and opened his
sack.
"In with your troubles," he of
fered. "It's what I'm v this funny
old world fori to carry for people.
But I think chiefly I was meant
to carry for you I"
Greatorcx suddenly recollected
that he had said somthing like this
to Evelyn. Evelyn Mason I Yes,
that was the name. His Evelyn.
Could this be she?
The little woman laughed gayly
at -hi speech. .
"I'll tell you what, boy," she said
surely she was Evelyn, no one
else would call him that, now that
he was a worn old man. "Put yours
in, too; and then we'll carry the
&M?W;&M ' y?t ft-
xmi ill
r:iM m Wmm if
But the sister held the "little, pale,
like that to Greatorex
v
lot between us. Come on old
slowcoach, aren't you? All of them,
mind, boy. You're not to keep
the tiniest, wecnicst back! -That's
dight. I'll have my shoulder under
this corner.'' - ! ;
"Why?" he asked.
, He did not quite understand the
little woman. He recollected that
he never quite understood Evelyn
not quite; but very nearly.
"Why?" he asked again. '
"Because it's the corner that
your troubles are i,'i," she ex
plained. And then he knew quite certainly
that she was Evelyn.
He traveled happily and through
pleasant country for many days
after that. He grew strong again,
and he won several more humble
races at the country fairs, when
she would let him run; but some
times she would -not, for she was
very, very careful of him; and that,
perhaps, was why he was stronger;
and why the sack did not hinder
him nearly so much. It was heavy
stilt, and wearisome; but he threw
out some of his troubles to lighten
her corner of the burden, and she
threw out some of hers to lighten
him. And often she would make
him put the sack down for awhile,
and rest in some pleasant place of
the-journey.
"Let's forget all about oud trou
bles, boy," she would say, "laugh
for a little while; because I have
you, and you have me." .
1 hey laughed a good deal to-
gether, though to other people they
seemed a serious woman and a
serious man.
"I keep the laughing side for
you," she told him.
Greatorex had some recollection
that the Evelyn who had helped
him in another race a race that he
was resting from had said that,
too; but she kept her serious side
for him as well Ah! There was
never any one like Evelyn.
They were happy days until
they came to the great white cross
roads; the roads where one goes
on alone, and one stays. The one
who goes leaves burdens; and
other things, other things.
The signpost said that he was
the one to go.
She held - to him awhile and
kissed him. Then the set his feet
upon the broad, smooth, white
road; the road for the one who is
done with burdens. They say there
is a great guest house at the end;
but none has ever returned to tell.
"Perhaps, dear," she confronted
him, "it is for the best. You see,
you will be free from the sack that
you .have borne to bravely for to
long. Aht I know I The great un
known is surely not to fear; not
for a good man like you."
"Whyl" he cried in astonishment,
"I have never been good."
"You have been very, very good
to every one," she declared, "and
you have been all the world to me I
God keep you, dear, in the Great
middle - aged lady" she never looked
right around the waist
Beyond. Some day I shall travel
this road. If there is nothing
upon it, we shall rest. And if there
is I wonder we shall find each
other somehowi O, yes! We shall
find each other. The infinite can
not be ridiculous. It cannot be
that! Anyhow, it is best for you,,
dear. You see, you will leave the
sack. I am glad for that, though
though I've helped you all I
could, haven't I?"
She hung around his neck for a
long time. Then she took the sack
from him, and gently pushed him
upon the lonely road.
He tried to turn back to her; but
there was a fierce flash and
when it was gone a great chasm
had opened between them. Across
the chasm he saw her sobbing and
holding out piteous hands. He
called and called, but she did not
seem to see him or hear. It was
the chasm, he thought, which they
called The Great Divide. And one
way none can see. across it; and
the other-'-who knows? Who
knows?
Presently she wiped her eyes,
and tried to smile. O! It was such
a pitiful smiie.
"I ought to be glad," she mur
mured. "I ought to be very glad.
He hasn't to bear it any more, not
any more, my dear!"
She picked up the great sack
the corner where her troubles were
bulged so now and put it over her
shoulder, and staggered into a
stony, thorny lane; the pathway of
the One Who Is Left. It was
such a big burden and such a little
bearer. He tried to leap into the
chasm toward her; but unseen
hands held him back kind hands,
they seemed; but so strong. Yet
they could not restrain him en
tirely. When they could, he
thought, he would be dead; but he
was not quite dead yet No, not
dead, so long as he could struggle
to get back to Evelyn. He strug
gled till his veins on his forehead
stood out
"I will not die," he said. "I will
not die!"
'My Godl" the anaesthetist cried.
"He's gone!"
The surgeon dropped the instru
ment he was about to hand to his
assistant, and it rattled on the
floor.
"His heart!" he groaned. "His
heart. And" he almost sobbed
"the operation was going to be
a success."
"You've done your best," his as
sistant tried to comfort him. "Your
wonderful .best."
"Are you sure he's gone?" the
surgeon asked. The hands which
had been so steady shook, and he
tore the India rubber glove which
he was pulling off.
"Not quite sure. You listen,
chief. A strychnine capsule,
Tomlinson. Sharpl Eh, chief?"
"Yes. Give it to him. What a
constitution he must have had. It's
fighting still 1"
The surgeon knelt down with
his head to Grcatorex's heart.
"What do you think?" the as
sistant asked.
"I don't know. ... Not
actually dead yet, but dying, and
won't die without a fight. He was
a chap like that. He can't last
long. I shan't tell her that the
operation would have succeeded. It
would only make her feel worse."
"Her?"
"There's always some one if
you find her. He did. Thank God
for that "
"O! The little, pale, middleaged
lady that"
"You nfay call her that. There's
a faint beat. Smith."
"Ye-es. Reflex action, I expect?"
- "Finish the dressing, boys, and
get him covered up. Make him
look comfortable. If he revives for
a second, I shall have her in.
Smith, I believe the heart is going
There's quite a chance he may be
conscious for a moment. Go and
fetch Miss Mason, sister. Mind
you give her your arm to hold."
But the sister held the "little
pale, middleaged lady" she never
looked like that to Greatorex
right round the waist.
When Greatorex found that he
could not leap into the chasm, he
ran along the edge, to keep Evelyn
in sight and in the 'hope of eluding
the unseen hands which guarded
him from the chasm.
He could not escape them; and
the chasm grew wider; and Eve
lyn's path sloped away from it He
shonted to her to "s tay, but she did
not hear; or perhaps she could not
stop. "The wheels of life always
turn on." Somebody said that once.
"Evelyn!" he shouted. "Evelyn!"
He fought madly with the hands,
and he seemed tc be drawing away
from them; but, all at once, a
noble, white angel stood in front
of him, holding up a hand. Great
orex thought that the angel was
old and wise, though in face lie
was young. Along the great white
road of infinity they never grow
old. he had heard, and never car
ried burdens. But he would rather
be old and burdened with Evelyn.
"Friend," the angel said, "do
not be afraid to die. The after life
is not to fear."
Greatorex stared at him.
"I wasn't thinking of that," he
stated.
He pointed to Evelyn stagger
ing along the bitter path of the
one who is left.
"She's so little," he pleaded,
"and not strong. She was never
very strong after she was ill that
time; and the sack the great
sack! I want to carry it for her."
"ik life," the angel told him,
"we have all our own burdens to
bear."
-"I used to bear som& of hers,"
Greatorex claimed.
"Yes. You bore some of the
burdens of many. Therefore there
will be forgiveness for other
things; even reward."
"I do not want reward," Great
orex declared. "I want her."
"In time," the angel assured him,
"she will come here, to you. She
has not been judged yet; but she
is a good woman; very good as
living women go. Oh, yes! I have
no doubt that she will come to
you; but she has to bear her
burden in life for a while yet."
"It is more," Greatorex cried,
"than she can bear."
"No," the angel denied. "It is
never that. When it is too great
it is taken away. As yours has
been."
"You mean I am dead?"
"There is no death. The near
est to it is what you call life. You
are upon the threshold of your
new being. It is a greater life "
than any dreamed of by you. Come
with me, and voir shall learn." -
"I don't want anything greater
than Evelyn," Greatorex declared.
"I think she will be part of the
greatness, some day. You can
ask to wait for her. It ' will be
granted, I think. You loved her
and love is tbe greatest thing in
what you called life; the part of
life -which is most alive. You shall
ask the reward vou most wiih for
the good which you have done.
The ill shall be blotted out"
"Can I ask here?" Greatorex
cried.
The angel looked at him thought
fully; seemed to read him mind.
"You can ask here," he said,
"but well, you can ask."
'I ask," Greatorex said firmly,
"to go back to life "
"It isn't life. This is."
"I mean I want to go to her.
That is the reward I ask for; to
go back to whatever you call it
to be with Evelyn; and carry the
sack for her."
The angel drew a deep breath,
and shook his head; but, Greato
rex thought, not entirely in disap
proval. "You would not be quite what
you were," he warned Greatorex;
"not able to carry as much as you
did. You would never be a strong
man again; and you would suffer
sometimes." '
Greatorex wiped his forehead.
"I'll put up with that," he said,
"but should I be only a burden
to her?'"
"No," the angel told him. "Not
that. Sometimes a burden to your
self, perhaps."
"Ol Greatorex found himself
smiling. "That! Well, that's the
reward I ask. To -carry for herl"
The angel bowed, and pointed to
the great chasm.
"It is called suffering," he an
nounced. "There is no other way
to go to her."
"Thank you," Greatorex ac
knowledged. ."If you'll tell these
hands to let go?"
"God will bless you, Greatorex,"
-the angel said.
The unseen hands released him.
He leaped. The first thing he
knew again was pain.
"Don't be too hopeful, dear
lady," the surgeon warned her.
"He may be half conscious for a
little while even that is not cer
tain but the chance that he will
live is very, very small. I will not
say there is none. I have learned
not to limit God's mercy. Give him
a little morphia. Smith. There is
liftely to be some pain. Yes, you
may hold him. It must be very
gently. But it would be be may
be able to "hear now. Speak to
him."
"Harry! Harry, darling! Harry!"
The second thing which Great
orcx knew was that the pain lulled.
The third thing was that some
where Evelyn was calling. He ral
lied to the voice as a soldier to his
flag.
. The fourth thing was that he
saw her face for one instant the
loved facel Near, but yet seem
ing far off.
He lost the sight directly. His
eyelids seemed to fall with a noise,
as if they were heavy lids of big
boxes. But hejieard her cry out;
felt her kiss Iiim. ,. He gathered
himself .together for a great effort
to speak. He wanted to tell her
that it was "all right," that he
would carry the burden.
"He has nnfnit Vii pvpc Th
One Who Loved Him cried, "Har
ry I Harry, my darling. It is Eve
lyn!" A slow, slow smile began to
spread faintly over his face.
"Chief!" The anaesthetist
clutched the surgeon's arm. "Upon
my word, I believe "
"The greatest 'op that ever
was!" the assistant cried enthusi
astically. "Good old chief 1"
The sister elapsed her hands and
lifted a laughing face to heaven;
a laughing face with tears run
ning down it I
"Who," the surgeon said, "shall
limit the mercy of God?"
Greatorex opened his eyes
again for half a second. Presently
he found a faint voice and mut
tered. "The sack!" he said. His
fingers clutched for lifec burden
to take up again found Evelyn's
hand. He sighed contentedly and
fell asleep.
"He will live, my dea'r," the sur
geon announced. He put his hand
on Evelyn's shoulder. "And what
ever he has to bear not so much,
I hope; not so much as I feared
you will lighten the load for him.
Now let him sleep. Yes, yes! It
is only sleep."
Greatorex slept and dreamed;
dreamed that he was still running
the race; and still bearing a bur
den. But it did not feel very
heavy. There was a pale little
woman who ran beside him and
her brave little shoulder was under
a corner of the sack.
People will call the story an alle
gory; but, thank God, it is truer
than that!
Black Dog Captured.
Gillette, Wyo., July 8. In cap
turing his 16th wolf in the Pump
kin Butte country, A. G. Hanson
of the United States biological sur
vey bagged "Black Dog," a no
torious wolf that has ravaged range
herds in that serial fr several
years.
